Shadows of Men and of Horses
by turbomagnus
Summary: After 'killing' Saffron, Ranma doesn't return to Japan, instead he is brought to a new teacher, one who teaches him how to turn the things he hides within himself into weapons against the darker side of the world around him.
1. I - Shadows of Men and of Horses

Author's Note: As with the other series from "Wild Horse Chase" turned into independent stories, the original chapters will remain there and any new additions will be posted here.

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and "The Shadow" of Smith &amp; Street Publications, as written by 'Maxwell Grant', each being used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit. Some dialogue is borrowed from the novelization of the movie "The Shadow" by James Lucano.

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-o0O0o-

"Shadows of Men and of Horses"  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

"Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? ...The Shadow Knows."

* * *

-o0o-

There was no real way of knowing how long he had been walking; it could have been days or weeks, months or years. Time had no meaning, he slept when he was tired, found food and ate when he was hungry, walked when he wasn't either. But he didn't have to fight, and for the first time in his life, he welcomed that. For the first time in his life, he didn't want to fight, didn't want to learn any new techniques or practice the ones which he already knew. He had tried, at first, but something was missing now, he knew what it was, how he had lost it. He had seen himself without limits and for the first time in his life, something besides memories of the pit scared him. _He_ scared him. So he left everything behind, left the girl for others to take home, and started walking. He hadn't stopped since for more than a few hours at a time. If he stopped, someone might find him and then he might have to fight. He didn't want to fight, he didn't want to risk reaching that point again where he might have to kill to survive. If he did, he wasn't sure he would survive it. He already wasn't sure who he was anymore. There were certain pillars his life was built on, but one was cracked and crumbling already before this and now with the loss of a second, he just wasn't sure of anything anymore besides the fact that he never wanted to see that part of himself again, that part that could kill...

It scared him because it was so easy to let go and let it out. _He_ scared him.

* * *

-o0o-

Two men had been following the young man for three days without rest or stopping on the part of either party. Between themselves, they would admit that they were impressed by their target's endurance, proof of a level of mastery over the physical that few reached. That endurance, however, would not keep them from completing their mission. It was a point of pride, of purpose and of honor that they and others like them never failed in a mission for their master.

That night, when their target finally slept, he became their prisoner.

* * *

-o0o-

When Saotome Ranma awoke, he felt as if he were flying. It was as the ground approached that he realised that he wasn't flying, he had been thrown through the air. It was only a lifetime of training in The Art that gave him the ingrained reflexes needed to roll and reduce the force of the impact despite his disoriented state. As Ranma rolled up to a knee and gained his bearings, he heard the sound of movement and looked behind him to see a large set of double doors swinging closed, the view of outside between them growing narrower by the second until with a resounding boom they shut tight. Ranma's problem with that was the simple fact that he didn't see anyone else in the large, richly funished hall he now found himself in, certainly not the four or more people it would take to shut doors of that size.

"Two men run, a coward and a wise man," a voice echoed in the room, "Which are you, I wonder."

"Who's there?" Ranma demanded, "Who're you?"

"I am an insect fluttering in the dung. I roll in the dung like a pig. I digest it and fashion it into gold dust, into a brook of pure water, into stars," The voice answered, "To fashion stars out of dog dung, is that not great work?"

Ranma frowned as he stood up and looked around the hall, "What've I gotta do with stars?"

"Nothing. But you have much in common with dog dung."

"Alright," Ranma's eyes narrowed at the insult, "Who are you?"

"Your teacher."

"No thanks," Ranma retorted, "I've had enough teachers for one lifetime."

"Then perhaps it is time for a second," the voice suggested.

Ranma started walking down the hall, between the massive red marble and gold columns supporting the roof and away from the sealed door, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Your body is strong, Saotome Ranma..." the voice observed, "I will make your mind stronger."

"What makes you think I want to be stronger?" Ranma snapped back defensively, uncomfortable with the fact that this faceless voice knew his name.

"You have no choice. There is a darkness within you, Saotome Ranma, a black shadow which thrives on creating chaos and destruction, you have given into it by taking a life."

"I did it to save Akane," Ranma answered, standing in the middle of the hall and looking around, "To protect an innocent, I took a life."

"Nevertheless," the voice continued, "That shadow exists. Now you will learn to use it to stop chaos and destruction, to combat darkness instead of fomenting it. Every one pays a price for redemption, this is yours. You have no choice. You _will _be redeemed."

Eyes narrowed and nostrils flared as Ranma focused trying to fight back that fear enough to charge up a Moko Takabisha, "Or I could just blow those doors open and leave."

"I wouldn't do that," the voice advised.

Contrary, though, Ranma turned back towards the large doors and unleashed the Moko Takabisha, watching in satisfaction as it flew through the air towards the doors. Satisfaction turned to surprise and shock, however, when it simply bounced off the doors and came back towards him, blasting him down the other half of the hall when it hit and leaving him on the floor with his back against an altar at the far end of the hall from the doors.

The voice had a comment for that, "He who knows how could live comfortably in hell."

"Is that where I am?" Ranma groaned in pain from having his own attack turned back on him, "In hell?"

A young boy appeared, hovering above the altar in a seated lotus position, clothed in robes that matched the surroundings in their richness. He had narrow eyes, a wide nose and full lips on a face under a cleanly shaven skull. Leaning forward to look down at Ranma, he smiled lightly and spoke with the same voice that had tormented him since being thrown into the room...

"Not yet."


	2. II - Returning

Yeah, it's short.

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and "The Shadow" of Smith &amp; Street Publications, as written by 'Maxwell Grant', each being used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Shadows of Men and of Horses"  
'Returning'  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

Saotome Ranma took a deep breath of the air, smelling the sharp tang of human industry that he'd been away from for the last five years. Five years of learning all that the Tulku had to teach him, all the things he had taken for granted growing up in a life focused only on The Art, learning how to live, how to let live, how to laugh, how to cry, how to dream, how to forget and a thousand other things of which many couldn't be put into words. He could of spent his entire 'second' lifetime learning from the Tulku and the monks of The Temple of The Cobras and it still wouldn't have been enough for the man who had recently seen his twenty-first birthday come and go. Just as it had been time, the Tulku had said, for Ranma to go; time for the training Genma had given his body and that which the Tulku had given his mind to be put to use for something greater than merely becoming 'a man among men'.

Smiling, the Japanese man slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out into Tokyo. Since he had no intention of returning to Nerima and the whims of others, his first goal would be to find a place to stay...


	3. III - The Work

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and "The Shadow" of Smith &amp; Street Publications, as written by 'Maxwell Grant', each being used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Shadows of Men and of Horses"  
"The Work"  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

I am many things. I am Saotome Ranma and I am Saotome Ranko, sometimes Tendo Ranko. I am the only child of Saotome Genma and Nodoka, and was the only student of Genma in the Saotome family martial arts. I am no longer a practicioner of 'Anything Goes' martial arts. I am not who I once was, I died when I killed. I am alive because something was seen in me, something that the one who saw it felt made me worthy of a second chance at live, a life with purpose and honor - true purpose and true honor, not the ramblings and bullying tactics of others.

A storm is coming. I could sleep. Rain makes for good sleeping weather; not thunder and lightning, though, those aren't as comforting. Rain is comforting. If it rains, I could sleep. But I have work to do. I'm starting to tire of it, but the work has to be done. That was one of the lessons I was taught by my _true _Master; 'when work must be done, someone must do it; if you are the only one able, that someone is you.' The work must be done and I am the only one able. I didn't ask to be, I didn't chose to be, but I am.

I am not who I once was, and I am not who I appear to be. I am someone who knows what lurks in the hearts of men, because I've been forced to look into my own heart. What I saw there frightened me, but I was taught to turn that fear into a weapon, one of many. There is a storm coming, it will bring rain, maybe even thunder and lightning, but definitely clouds...

Clouds cast shadows.


	4. IV - A Mire In Nerima

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

To quote a song by Ray Stevens... "Meanwhile, back at the motel..."

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and "The Shadow" of Smith &amp; Street Publications, as written by 'Maxwell Grant', each being used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Shadows of Men and of Horses"  
'A Mire in Nerima'  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

There's a certain relief that comes with the departure of guests. The sense that you can go back to being yourself again, the good and the bad. You no longer have to act polite for the sake of being respectful to your guests. Not that she had ever done that to begin with, it just wasn't her style, then or now. Things had changed in the last five years, but Tendo Nabiki wasn't one of them. Being dead, even for only a few minutes, had changed her younger sister; Akane had gone back to the beginning and started learning martial arts as though she had never practiced them before. Sometimes, it takes a god - or in this case, a demi-god - to make a person see just how limited their skills really are. The eldest Tendo sister, in turn, had been forced by Akane's temporary death to come to terms with the concept that life is too short to put some things on hold, even to take care of family. Ono Kasumi and her husband had celebrated their third wedding anniversary only days before Saotome Ranma's plane had landed in Tokyo. On that family's side of the equation, the Saotome family home finally reached the completion of its repairs and the remaining two members returned there amidst many comments about 'unmanly abandonment of his responsibilities' by an 'ungrateful son', these comments were often accompanied by tears and wailing about dishonor and disgrace from the patriarch of the Tendos. For all things that do, some things do not change.

This might actually mean something later on.

* * *

-o0O0o-

Author's Note: Segment title was a deliberate bit of word play. Remove the 'i' from 'in' and reverse "A Mire in Nerima", you get "amireN neriM A". If the author stops being a jerk with the capital letters, you might even notice that without that 'i', it's a pallendrome. If that's how that word is spelt...


	5. V - Into The Night

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and "The Shadow" of Smith &amp; Street Publications, as written by 'Maxwell Grant', each being used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

WARNING: this is a bit darker than previous entries in the "Shadows of Men and of Horses" set, keep that in mind before choosing to read any further or not.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Shadows of Men and of Horses"  
"Into The Night"  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

"Won't do me no good washing in the river, can't no preacher-man save my soul..." - 'Barton Hollow', The Civil Wars.

-o0O0o-

* * *

It was a dark night in Tokyo city, the kind of night that with a little chill and a little rain started many detective stories. This night, however, wasn't cold and wet, but warm and dry, with not a cloud in the sky to obscure the light of the full moon from mixing with the light of the streetlamps to cast shadows throughout the city. It made the city seem peaceful and safe, the night empty and still. It was an illusion. The city was neither peaceful nor safe, and the night was not empty. There were things in the streets just out of sight and not all of them were good...

Sato Ishiko knew nothing of this, she only knew that she was late getting home from visiting her childhood friend from before the Satos had moved to a new ward in Tokyo and had found herself attempting a shortcut through a series of streets that she hadn't traveled after dark before. Ishiko gasped as a young man stepped out of nowhere almost directly in front of her, causing her to stop suddenly so as not to run into him.

"I'm sorry!" she exclaimed quickly, "I didn't see you."

"What have we here?" the man looked at Ishiko, "What do you think, boys?"

Murmurs and comments from behind her caused Ishiko to spin around in alarm to see that another half-dozen men now stood in the direction she had came from.

"I think she'll pay her toll nice for travelling on our turf," the man that was now behind Ishiko said, grabbing her by the upper arms, causing her to begin to struggle to get free.

"Let me go!" Ishiko exclaimed, near tears, "Don't do this!"

"Trust me, doll," he whispered in her ear, "That's not what you'll be saying soon enough."

Panicked, Ishiko stomped her foot down on his, forcing him to release her as he screamed in pain and dropped to the ground clutching his foot. Shoving him to one side, Ishiko tried to take off running down the street, but he managed to grab her ankle as her she went by, making her fall to the ground as he stood up.

"Before, I was going to go easy on you," he snarled, "Now you're really going to pay."

"I would advise against it," a voice suddenly cut through the night.

"What was that?" one of the gang members asked one of the others.

"I don't know, man," the second ganger answered.

"The mill of the Gods grinds slowly," the same voice sounded again, but closer this time, "but it grinds exceedingly small."

The gang leader, the one who had grabbed Ishiko growled, "Who said that?"

"Respect for all things is important, Reiki Shin, you respect nothing..."

Shin snarled and looked around, "Show your face and I'll teach you about respect, punk!"

A chilling laugh echoed off the buildings, "_I_ will do the teaching, Reiki Shin."

Suddenly every streetlamp for twenty meters in either direction went out, cloaking the street in darkness as a fog began to roll in despite the fact that they were nowhere near Tokyo Bay. Then the night was filled with sounds of combat, screams of pain and surprise, and worst of all, that chilling laughter sounding again and again to taunt the gangers. Then the fog cleared leaving Ishiko to see the majority of the gang laying on the ground, battered and unconscious.

A long shadow stretched down the street, leading up to a dark figure silhouetted by the streetlamps that were still on. The figure looked at the one gang member that remained standing and spoke in a low, harsh voice, "I suggest you run."

The gang member turned to run, tripped over one of his brethern and fell to the ground, glancing back over his shoulder as he scrambled to his feet and kept running away into the night. Ignoring the fleeing ganger, the figure walked towards where Ishiko was laying, watching with wide eyes. But it wasn't her that the figure moved towards.

Reaching the gang leader, the figure lifted Shin by his collar and slapped him awake before looking into his eyes, "You and your friends will go to Bokutou Police Station and surrender yourselves to Chief Sachou."

"Bokutou Station, Chief Sachou," Shin repeated mindlessly as the figure released him and let him fall back to the ground."

"Wh-who are you?" Ishiko asked frightfully.

The figure looked as though it were tilting its head, "Who, what, they're just words used to describe a thing. How do you describe something indescribable? How do you define an idea, a feeling, a belief? If you must think of me as anything, think of me as simply another shadow in the night."

Then the figure extended a hand to help her up. Cautiously, Ishiko took it and was pulled to her feet.

"Go home," the figure ordered, "The night is no place for such as you. These men will not be a problem again."

The figure turned away from Ishiko and began to walk off into the darkness, causing her to call after him, "How do you know that?"

The figure paused and remarked calmly, "I know."

Then he simply seemed to vanish, leaving Ishiko to look around at all the shadows cast by trashcans and street lamps, mailboxes and even herself; suddenly, the night didn't feel quite so empty anymore.


	6. VI - A Glimpse of The Past

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and "The Shadow" of Smith &amp; Street Publications, as written by 'Maxwell Grant', each being used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Shadows of Men and of Horses"  
'A Glimpse Of The Past'  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

Morning found Saotome Ranma dressed in 'normal' slacks and a button-up shirt, indistinguishable from any of the thousands of college students and beginning salarymen that could be found in the city of Tokyo, sitting in a tea house with his hands wrapped around a cup of steaming hot rooibos tea, a favorite he had developed during his training. Ranma breathed deeply of the steam rising from his tea, his brain needed a good steam-cleaning after the previous night; something about what he had seen bothered him, some subtle connection between the different crimes he'd dealt with which eluded him. No matter what one chose to call it, Saotome Genma had spent ten years turning him into a living weapon. The Tulku had just made him a more dangerous weapon; a weapon that can think, a sword that knew where to cut to do the most damage without it being fatal, where to stab to cause death to come quickest, how to bring victory without ever drawing blood. The Tulku had taught him the one thing that Genma never understood; focus and restraint.

"Do you need more tea, Ranma-san?" one of the waitresses asked, having become used to seeing Ranma there in the mornings for a cup of tea.

Ranma smiled politely, "Thank you, but no - the tea here is just too good and I need to keep a clear head today."

The waitress fought back a blush caused by those exotic blue eyes being turned her way along with a smile, "You're quite welcome, Ranma-san, you've become one of our best customers, after all."

'Focus and restraint,' Ranma thought when the waitress bowed and moved away, 'All the fighting ability and special techniques in the world mean nothing if the person doesn't know how to direct them.'

Ranma inhaled again and let the warmth of the steam fill his nostrils and give him a moment's respite from the troubling fact that there seemed to be some bond among the criminals, some guiding hand that directed them that he needed to find before he could do more than merely be an irritant to the darker side of the world around him, before he could fulfil the mission given to him by his teacher. But first, he needed to sleep and recover from the night before. Taking his tea cup in his hands, Ranma took a long drink and drained it down to the leaves before sitting it back on the table and standing to leave, leaving the payment for his tea and a tip on the table next to the cup. As he approached the door, Ranma had to turn sideways to keep from being run down by a bob-cut brunette making her way towards the counter. It had been five years, but he still recognised her even if she hadn't recognised - or even seen, considering the way she was moving - him. Almost casually, Ranma reached out with his mind, with the abilities and techniques which the Tulku had taught him and brushed against her thoughts, what he felt causing him to frown. Ranma straightened back up and started towards the door, not even pausing as he sent a single thought in the girl's direction...

_'You haven't changed, Nabs.'_

Not entirely sure she had really heard the familiar voice, Tendo Nabiki's head shot up and she turned to look behind her, but the only thing she saw was the door to the tea house swinging shut.


	7. VII - On Darkness' Trail

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and "The Shadow" of Smith &amp; Street Publications, as written by 'Maxwell Grant', each being used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Shadows of Men and of Horses"  
'On Darkness' Trail'  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

The cloaked figure with the scarf wrapped around his lower face sighed, the secret truth was he didn't like having to do things like this, he didn't like having to be a violent and cruel person... unfortunately, too often the only way to defeat monsters was by becoming a greater monster, one they would fear and cower before...

"A name, Yakushi," the cloaked figure repeated firmly, his rocklike demeanor a sharp contrast to the panicked fear of the man he was holding over the edge of the rooftop, "Give me a name."

"Sakata!" the man named Yakushi spat out, trying not to look behind or below him where there was nothing more than empty air for too far for his comfort, "Sakata Enterprises - they're a big shot with Sakata Enterprises, that's all I know, I swear!"

The cloaked figure slowly shook his head, "Why don't I believe you, Yakushi?"

"I'm telling you the truth!" Yakushi tried not to whimper in fear, he hated heights to begin with and now this.

"Prove it!" The figure demanded.

"Hinata Springs," Yakushi answered, "There's a lot of talk about Hinata Springs! And that's all I know! I swear by the kamis!"

"By the spirits?" The figure laughed coldly, mockingly, "How can you swear by something you don't even believe in, Yakushi?"

Yakushi gulped audibly, he'd hoped that this shadowy figure wouldn't figure out that his oath had no real basis.

"I'll give you one last chance, Yakushi," the figure offered, "What do you know about Tendo?"

"Ten-Tendo?" Yakushi stammered, "Who's that?"

The figure loosened their grip on Yakushi, enough so that the man could feel it, "My hand's getting tired, Yakushi..."

"Tendo's some kind of amatuer that thinks she's a boss," Yakushi rattled off, "She's been trying to move in on some of the local numbers and bookmaking acts. The bosses sent her a warning a couple weeks ago, but it looks like she's ignoring it, so they're planning on sending her a message two nights from tonight."

"It's amazing how much you know with the proper motivation, Yakushi," the shadowy figure taunted.

"Does this mean you're gonna let me go now?"

"You could say that. One more thing, Yakushi... I hate it when people lie to me," The figure informed him before releasing him into the empty air. Yakushi began screaming until he was cut off by the sudden stop of his descent. The figure looked down, Yakushi had only fallen about three meters to land on the penthouse's balcony, the worst injury he had was a broken leg and the facts that he'd passed out and lost control of himself in fright.

"Don't worry, Yakushi," the figure commented to the unconscious form below him, "I understand the prison system has a great health plan."


	8. VIII - Intersection

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and "The Shadow" of Smith &amp; Street Publications, as written by 'Maxwell Grant', each being used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Shadows of Men and of Horses"  
'Intersection'  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

It was not quite accurate to say that it had been two nights, more accurate would be that it was the second night since Yakushi's 'interrogation'. The night that the local 'bosses' planned to send a message to a newcomer attempting to gain a foothold on their territory. Normally, the man sitting in the darkened room of the top-floor apartment would consider this as an opportunity to deliver both the 'messengers' and the newcomer a message of his own - the weed of crime bares bitter fruit - but there was a situation. The newcomer was someone he had known in another lifetime, before the Tulku of the Temple of the Cobras had given him a new life of purpose and true honor. If he had not ran after killing Saffron, if he had never met the Tulku, Tendo Nabiki could very well have ended up as his sister-in-law if their fathers' had been granted their way.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Saotome Ranma stared into the flame of the candle, looking for answers in one of the myriad of ways in which the Tulku had taught him to use his mind. By trying to take control of the numbers and gambling rackets around her, Nabiki was proving herself to be a criminal, a force of disorder and corruption... But she was still someone he had known in his past, someone who had been a part of his life. It was like the Tulku had taught him; in the dark places in which he would walk, he would have to know himself and control himself, for his enemies would not hesitate to turn his past, his emotions, anything they could touch into a weapon against him. Ranma would be the first one to admit that his past was a very big, very dangerous weapon to face.

Ranma reached down to the floor between him and the candle, lifting the piece of red cloth up into his sight; that was why he cloaked his identity, his very being in the shadows. If his past could become a weapon against him, then he would become a man without a past, a shadow in the night. Slowly, Ranma began to wrap the red fabric around the lower part of his face, covering his mouth...

* * *

-o0o-

Tendo Nabiki clucked her tongue and tapped the papers in her hand against the edge of the counter in the bakery's back room.

"I don't think you're hearing me, Hijima-san," Nabiki shook her head, "Imagine how your wife and son would feel to find out what you really do. The shame they'll feel, how dishonored they'll be... and all you have to do to keep them from it is just letting me have a little cut from your backdoor profits. That's not too much to ask for your family's peace-of-mind, now is it?"

Hijima the baker clenched his fist, "And I'm telling you, Tendo, I said 'no'. That won't be happening."

Nabiki shook her head disappointedly, "Then I guess our business is concluded, Hijima-san... I'd offer my condolences, but, well, you brought it on yourself, you know."

As she started to move to leave the back room, Hijima snapped his fingers and two men stepped through the door that led down to the cellar.

"You were warned, Tendo-san," the one on the left began, "Not to involve yourself in affairs of those who send us."

"You did not listen," the one on the right continued, "We have been sent to ensure that this time you understand the message you are given."

The two men started to approach Nabiki, reaching under their sports jackets, and the lights in the bakery went out. The last thing Nabiki heard was the sounds of gunshots.

* * *

-o0o-

When Nabiki regained consciousness, she looked around in concern; she was no longer in Hijima's bakery, instead she was laying on a bench in Azuban-Juuban Park. Sitting up, Nabiki quickly patted herself down, finding no bullet holes, nor did she find the papers she had on Hijima's connections.

"Okay, what just happened?" Nabiki demanded to the empty night, causing an unseen figure to shake their head.

_'Go home, Tendo!' _Ranma projected into her mind with a snarl, he had saved her this time for the sake of his past, her future was now in her own hands. On the bench, Nabiki suddenly found herself rubbing her temples, trying to figure out why she felt like she needed to just go home and forget about Hijima and his operation, along with everything that had happened tonight...


	9. IX - Sending A Message

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental _multi-fandom_ project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 10 October.

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and "The Shadow" of Smith &amp; Street Publications, as written by 'Maxwell Grant', each being used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Shadows of Men and of Horses"  
'Delivering A Message'  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

As Tendo Nabiki started to move to leave the back room, Hijima snapped his fingers and two men stepped through the door that led down to the cellar.

"You were warned, Tendo-san," one of them began, "Not to involve yourself in affairs of those who send us."

"You did not listen," his partner continued continued, "We have been sent to ensure that this time you understand the message you are given."

The two men started to approach Nabiki, reaching under their sports jackets as they did so. Before they could remove anything, the lights suddenly went out and the back room of the bakery plunged into darkness. Two gunshots rang out as the men's hands cleared their jackets. While one might read about someone shooting a gun out of a person's hand or shooting their trigger finger off, it's mostly fictionalised. A person will, however, drop a weapon when they're shot in the hand, either from pain or by a 'knee-jerk' response. By the time the weapons had hit the floor, however, Nabiki had already passed out.

"Who's there?" The baker and front operator demanded of the darkness.

"Two wrongs do not make a right, Hijima Gai, nor does wrong upon wrong," a voice echoed in the blackened room, "Wrong upon wrong, crime upon crime, your sins multiply and judgement comes."

"Who are you to judge me?" Hijima demanded harshly, "Someone who lurks in the shadows afraid to show their face!"

One of the muscle muttered nervously, "I heard one of the gangs in the area got wiped out by an invisible man, they had the leader so scared that he ran to the cops for protection."

"You believe everything you hear," his associate sneered.

"What are you calling this then?"

"Just what Hijima said," the second man answered, "Someone too scared to-ah!"

Before he could finish his sentence, he felt something grab him by the wrist and swing him, causing him to slam facefirst into the wall and have the wind knocked out of him. The man wouldn't know it, but the one who had just slammed him into the wall no longer used the flashy and powerful techniques of his youth, the control and focus he had learned had taught him to prefer an economy of movement and merely enough power to deal with a situation without wasting any.

"Goro!" his partner exclaimed, only for his head to jerk backwards as though punched; then he bent over, feeling as if he had been punched in the stomach.

"Goro! Shimura!" Hijima snapped, "What are you two fools doing?"

A sharp, harsh laughter cut through the darkness, taunting Hijima.

"What's wrong, Hijima?" the voice taunted further, "Afraid of the dark? ...You should be."

"Big words from some guy who thinks he's _shinobi_ or something," Hijima retorted, reaching behind him and fumbling for a drawer in the cabinet where he kept a weapon hidden.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the voice warned.

"Yeah?" Hijima pulled out the M1911 Colt automatic which he hid in the drawer and pointed it out into the dark room, "Well you're not me!"

"You dare pull a gun on me?" the voice growled and Hijima felt a powerful blow crashing into his hands and knocking the gun away. Hijima felt a pair of hands grab him by the collar of his shirt and lift him into the air, leaving him dangling there kicking his legs as he tried to find something to put his feet on.

"You fool," the voice sneered, "You have no idea who you're dealing with, do you?"

Before he could respond, Hijima found himself flying through the air to hit the wall on the other side of the room and slide to the floor in a crumpled heap, conscious, but barely. By this time, Goro had regained his breath and charged across the room in the direction that, as best as he could tell in the dim light that slipped in from the windows of the front of the bakery, Hijima had come from. Something in the shadows shifted and Goro was now sure that he knew where the voice was coming from.

"Got you," Goro growled intending to tackle whoever was there and run them right into the wall. He wasn't expecting for a solid object to suddenly form in his path and knock him backwards, causing him to land on his back on the floor.

"No, _I _have_ you_," the voice countered and Goro felt something grab his shirt and pull, then he felt himself go sliding across the floor and headfirst into Hijima.

Shimura had used Goro as a distraction and retrieve Hijima's gun, the polished metal reflecting just enough light to make it visible, and pointed it at Nabiki with his uninjured hand as he knelt on the ground, "Enough, show yourself or the girl dies."

"As you wish," the voice answered coldly and fire suddenly roared to life in the bakery's stone oven, silhouetting a dark figure in a black cloak and slouch hat, a defiantly red piece of cloth wrapped around the lower half of their face.

Despite the fire, the temperature in the room began to drop as the figure laughed humorlessly. Shimura began to feel weak, never knowing that he was experiencing a combination of the 'Soul of Ice' and certain ki-draining techniques.

"Put the gun on the ground," The figure ordered.

Shimura instead raised the barrel from Nabiki to the figure, "Put-put your guns on the ground!"

The figure shook their head as though in resignation and flicked a hand towards Shimura. The gun in his hand, and in fact the hand holding it, dropped to the floor, severed by one of the Saotome Secret Techniques, the Vacuum Blade. It took a few seconds for the pain to register, then Shimura collapsed onto his side, clutching the bloody stump of his wrist as he screamed in agony. Without giving Shimura or the other two a look of care, the figure walked past him and bent down to lift Nabiki up onto their shoulder. They took another two steps towards the front of the bakery before stopping and turning back to the injured occupants of the back room.

"It is in your interests that we do not meet again," he informed them harshly.

"Wha-what about Tendo?" Goro managed to stammer out.

"The weed of crime bares bitter fruit, Sanzuka Goro," the figure answered, "I suggest you concern yourself more with your friend's life. He'll bleed out soon if you do nothing..."

The figure turned and, with Tendo's unconscious form still draped over their shoulder, vanished into the darkness as the fire in the oven went out as suddenly as it had come to life.

* * *

-o0o-

'_Go home, Tendo!' _He projected sharply into Nabiki's mind from the shadows where the trees kept moonlight and lamplight alike at bay. Five years and she was still playing the same games; still thinking of herself as untouchable; still refusing to realise that the rest of Tokyo - of the world - was different than Nerima Ward, that people there played for keeps and wouldn't simply shrug her actions off as the antics of a girl whose mother died when she was too young and whose father simply couldn't handle disciplining his daughters. Tonight he had saved her, but he wouldn't always be there, he wasn't the heroic martial artist they always saw five years before, not anymore. He no longer possessed the limitless optimism and good nature that he once had, it had died when he'd been forced to kill Saffron; buried forever when the Tulku made him confront the truth of his actions and inactions over the years and what had came of them. He now knew the depths of selfishness, apathy, greed, cowardice; the measure of chaos and destruction that could lurk in the hearts of men, because he had been made to see what dwelt in his own heart. He had been charged with fighting the evil men did by using the same evil that he had always had but never acknowledged. He unleashed that evil every time he put on the mask and cloak that he wore, turn it towards purposes of good... but wasn't evil done for good still evil, that was a question that still, after all the Tulku had taught him, troubled Saotome Ranma at times. After times when he did his 'work', as he called it, he often found himself meditating to regain his mental balance and help restrain the darkness within until he needed it again - usually with a steaming hot cup of tea to help him focus. He couldn't help but feeling he would be meditating for longer than usual after the viciousness he had used tonight and how close to his old life the whole thing had brought him...

* * *

-o0O0o-

Author's Note; To pre-empt certain reviews, no, it's not a misspelling, it's meant to be 'defiantly red' and not 'definitely red'. Defiantly as in the brightness of the red seems to be defying the grim blackness of the rest of Ranma's garb.


	10. X - Tea and Consequences

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental _multi-fandom_ project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. For more details, see the relevent section in my profile. This is The 365 Project, 18 October.

In the immortal words of Samuel L. Clemens... "Persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; persons attempting to find a moral in it will be banished; persons attempting to find a plot in it will be shot. BY ORDER OF THE AUTHOR."

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and "The Shadow" of Smith &amp; Street Publications, as written by 'Maxwell Grant', each being used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Shadows of Men and of Horses"

'Tea and Consequences'

By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

He hadn't slept well when he did return home afterwards, his neighbor had confronted him as he had left for his morning tea with the information that Ranma had gotten so loud at one point that it had woken her from her sleep in the next apartment over. He had apologised, but it was just one more bit of trouble to weigh on his already heavy mind.

Saotome Ranma slowly breathed in the steam rising from his cup of tea. For the moment, the rest of the world, of the universe, ceased to exist. There was only the steam and the smells it carried; green tea, hints of lemon, of honey and of ginseng. From the smell of it, he would guess that the ginseng that had been infused into the tea was an old root, thirty years perhaps. It was good root. The tea calmed him and helped him focus. It was helping him to seal away the darker side that he had suppressed for so long, that the Tulku had taught him how to release as a weapon against other dark forces. The events of the night before kept replaying in his head; taking out the lights, the gunshots, the sheer violence that he had exhibited - even after five years of training to use his dark shadow he was still surprised by just how much darkness actually lurked in his own heart - Nabiki...

Part of him was glad that there was little religion in evidence in his family, that neither Nodoka nor Genma had ever bothered to tell him anything such as what temple the Saotome family traditionally registered to or where his ancestors were buried. It was liberating in its own way. Without that knowledge, there was no temptation and he never had to wonder how to explain parts of his life to his ancestors. That his entire life had been spent learning nothing but martial arts, including a cursed technique that made him lose his mind and become a human cat; that he had been cursed by magic springs to turn into a girl with cold water - something that the Tulku had helped him come to terms with by making Ranma face the situation instead of constantly hurling physical and verbal abuse about it at him as Genma had always done; killed a demi-god and had a nervous breakdown because of it; disappeared into the mountains for five years to be trained by a Tibetian holy man to use the darker emotions and thoughts that he had always suppressed as a weapon against crime, injustice and evil; Finally was sent back to Japan to begin the work for which the Tulku had trained him and become as violent and cruel as any of those he fought, his actions 'redeemed' only by the difference in who he acted against; and now... he was also having trouble getting his ex-fiancee's older sister out of his mind. Since the other day when he had passed her on his way out of the tea house, at the oddest times it seemed as though he could sense her nearby, even smell her in the air, just like he could right now...

"You've got some explaining to do, Saotome," Tendo Nabiki snapped, standing behind the seated man with her hands on her hips.

"Well," Ranma muttered as his attention was pulled away from his tea, "That explains that, anyway..."


End file.
